


Not Everyone's A Hero

by AlwaysACuteMess



Category: Fable (Video Games), Game Grumps
Genre: Adventure, Archery, F/M, Fable AU, Friendship, Romance, other stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysACuteMess/pseuds/AlwaysACuteMess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding someone you want to spend more than a few hours with in all of Albion is a difficult task. Finding someone to fall in love with... now that’s a fable all its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Everyone's A Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Fable AU. Also known as E stop writing shit that isn’t Housewarming.

Traveling through Darkwood was always a terrible idea; escort missions were always one worse than that. Other heroes, especially those more esteemed, scoffed when the mission cards showed up at the Guild. They had more important things to do, they said. Better uses of their time. But you’d never really understood how that could be. Sure heroes that went off to save the world at large were valuable and deserved every bit of praise. But was a hero truly above helping the common man? You didn’t think so.

That was why even though you detested escorts, and you absolutely abhorred the thought of slogging through Darkwood, you took the mission anyway. Someone had to help the traders. That someone, today, was you.

At least, so you thought, until you walked yourself into their camp just at the lip of the Marsh. It was there that the other traders seemed to think a hero had already come along to pick them up. Strange, but not completely unheard of. Perhaps another adventurer already out in the field who hadn’t picked up the card but decided to help anyway. It at least would give you the rest of the evening off, though empty handed...

Screaming in the distance told you otherwise, ears perking up at the sound. It could have been any number of things. The first thought was that the person who had picked up the traders had tricked them and taken them out into the swamp to kill them. For what? Who knew. Murder wasn’t all too uncommon. The next thought was that it was perhaps a low level hero who had bitten off more than they could chew.

Exactly what you found as you perched yourself behind a boulder to survey the situation. Two traders running around frantically while their supposed hero was fending off a horde of hobbes with... a lute. And yelling of his own. Lots and lots of yelling. They weren’t even powerful hobbes. No sorcerer on their team. No large red ones in armor. Just the little ones beating up on him. Clamoring to his tall legs and smacking him with their hammers.

One got a hold of one of the traders, pulling him to the ground and starting to chomp viciously on his leg. It was about all you could handle. The best training for a hero in the field was to fend for themselves and learn on their feet. This hero- whoever he was- clearly couldn’t do anything. You retrieved an arrow from your quiver, notching it quickly and pulling your bow back in full draw. Took a breath in and then slowly let it out as you lined up the shot and then sent the arrow flying, string shivering with the effort.

One hobbe down. Got him right through the head. The scene stilled a little as everyone on the ground seemed startled about the addition of one more force. You took the opportunity to send two more hobbes to their deaths. Although you were doing all the work, the untrained hero in the field had no problem bumbling through your orbs and grabbing up the experience. It seemed less malicious and more...

Who the hell was this guy?  
Raising his lute overhead he just almost barely proved himself but stopped midswing. “I- do I have to kill it?” Asking you, looking in your direction, having figured out where you were hiding. Not too hard, you reminded yourself, as you were shooting from that direction. The only thing you could do was roll your eyes and draw one more arrow, holding it at half pull as you came from around the rock.

“You should.” Warning him. Giving him a chance. He raised his lute again as if that were a weapon and then again halted midswing and whined. The ridiculousness of the situation was far too much to handle at this point so you let your arrow go, sinking into the hobbe’s chest, screaming with one of their wretched little cries of pain, and then finally dying. These orbs you picked up, relishing in the feel of warmth. Yours. Earned. Practically nothing but still yours.

As you heaved a very heavy sigh you watched him kneel down to the downed trader, taking the man in his arms. “Hey, you’re- you’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Look at him- are you daft?” The other trader was shrieking frantically. “He’s got a hole in his chest! You promised to get us to Barrow Fields safe and look what you’ve done!”

With a jaunt of your arm you knocked the man across the back of his head with your bow to shut him up. “You’re not helping.” Dryly informing as you moved to squat next to the supposed hero and his dying trader. Not much that could be done-

The third surprise of the day, about as much as you felt you could handle, came with a glow of blue light. Something you were familiar with. You watched the hero’s face, the concentration and sorrow in his large brown eyes. Saw the telltale streaks of silver alight on his cheeks. Only high level heroes held such power over Will. Effectively repairing the tissue of the trader’s chest, sealing the wound shut and healing him. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. When he was finished he simply smiled. “There. Better, right?” Wobbling just a little. Clearly having used too much energy.

Who was this man?

“Much better, thanks. Stop your screaming, Theodore! We’re almost there! That was a right adventure- but I knew you were the hero for the job!” Seeming to have no issue with almost being murdered, led out into Darkwood by an amateur who didn’t even have a weapon to his name and- ...and-

They got to their feet, shuffling by quickly and left you hunched over staring at the guy- who was staring back at you. “Thanks for your help.” Sincerely stated as he stood, offering you a hand to stand but you refused it, instead putting your longbow to the ground and using the leverage to stand.

“Couldn’t very well ignore screaming, could I?” Part of the hero’s code was to help everyone, after all. Or so at least you’d told yourself. Some days it felt like you were the only one who upheld such things.

“No,” He answered with a little laugh, turning and ushering for you to follow along, clearly in need of your assistance. “I couldn’t have either but- I mean- you came in and just wrecked house.” Sounding very impressed with your talents.

You couldn’t hide the smile it brought to your lips. Times were tough. Commonfolk just expected heroes would come to their aid- and maybe they should, but rarely anyone ever complimented you anymore. You hadn’t heard a thanks in years. It was just what was expected. Your job. What you’d chosen to do. That didn’t deserve thanks. “Just doing my job.” And so that was the only way you could think to respond.

“Oh yeah? You’re a hero right? From the guild and everything?” The way he talked about it was so out of place. Not someone who was intimately familiar with its halls. But how could that be?

You nodded. “Yeah. Trained since I was a kid.” Answering his first question. And then trying to get in one of your own. “But aren’t you-“

“We’ve made it!” Both traders cried in joy before exiting from one side of the gate to the other. You followed without question and had to hide your eyes from the suddenly blinding sun.

Barrow Fields was always an idyllic little spot. Not much activity. Just a few traders trying to shill this and that before you could pass through to Oakvale. And- ...that chilling house on the hill...

You shook your head, watching your new friend- or- well. Acquaintance- your new _acquaintance_ , get showered in praise by the swarm of other traders. A hip-hip-hooray here and a bag of money there. Something he tried to refuse before turning to you. “Uh. Hey I mean- unless you’ve got something better to do- well, this money probably belongs to you anyway, right? You did all the work.” Grinning widely. “Would you like to get a pint with me at the tavern?”

Oakvale, he meant, you knew that. You had nothing else to do- and that money _did_ belong to you. Your plans after the escort mission were just to go back to your dorm and read for a bit. So a beer or two didn’t sound awful-

Especially- ... “What- why are your ears like that?” It nearly knocked the wind out of you. Long and pale, jutting out from his mop of curly brown hair.

Defensively he reached up to tug at one of them. “I dunno. They’ve just always been like this.” Tone shying away from the bounciness you’d only just learned from a few minutes of knowing him. “Is it- like- a problem ooor...” Still pulling at the tip of his left ear.

“No.” You said plainly, easing off the hood of your cloak to reveal your own. “I’ve just never met anyone else in the world with ones like mine.”

All your life you’d been teased for them. From very short beginnings at the poor houses in Bowerstone South, and then even in the Guild. All your life. People said you were dangerous- nymphs had long ears. Balverines had pointed ears. That one day you might turn into a monster and you’d never even know it. Part of you believed it must have been true. You had no idea who your parents were. Maybe your father had mated with one of those white balverines and your mother had you. Someone destined to lose herself in bloodthirsty killing after who knew how many years.

The guy smiled again. “I think that deserves a beer, no?” Giggling as he nodded towards the Oakvale gate. You couldn’t resist following him. You just had to know more.

You settled at a table in the back near the fireplace, not particularly chilled, still summer in this part of the world, but it was nice nonetheless. He went up and ordered something, you had no idea what, but he came back with two tankards, dribbling liquid down the sides. Sipping absently you watched him watch you. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time walking over.

“So you’re not a hero.” Finally you finished the thought.

He put a hand to his chest. “Me? You think _I’m_ a hero? With my stupendous heroic hero skills I just displayed?” Apparently no stranger to self deprecation. Then again he had been screaming like a child and trying to swing a musical instrument at hobbes.

You couldn’t help a giggle. “No- I mean. I dunno. How come you picked up those traders, then?” Why had he stolen your mission? Clearly it had been an accident. He didn’t seem like the type to act maliciously. ...he couldn’t even finish off a tiny little goblin. Malicious this man surely was not.

“Oh well- I was uh- ...I was uuuhh...” Suddenly stalled, cloudiness in his eyes as he tried to think of something. “Oh-uh- shit. Well. Like.. there’s no way to say this that won’t make me seem like a total asshole, but I was traveling to the Bordello.” You couldn’t help a very wry arch of your brow and a widen of your eyes. His hands shot up. “Nonono- I mean- well like- fucking yeah obviously it’s a sex house but! That’s not- I wasn’t there to do the sex stuff!”

At this you couldn’t hold it in any longer. Laughter burst out of you from your chest up in deep rolling spurts. Who the hell was this guy?  
_Do the sex stuff?_

He fell in line with your giggles, easing back in his chair. It took a long moment for both the sounds to subside. When they did, “I was hired to play music there.” Reaching back to give the neck of his lute a little jostle. He had it on a chord so that he could rest it behind him when not in use. “Anyway! So I was trying to get there and like these traders must have thought I was someone else- they asked me to help them and like... I dunno. I couldn’t say no. So I went but. Figured out pretty quick I was _way_ in over my head. If you hadn’t come along I dunno...” Giving a shrug as he hid the rest of what he thought the night may have become behind a long sip of ale.

In any case, his thoughts were right. No matter how dark they might have been. They all would have died out there. -oh. Except... “Do you heal people often?” That was surely in more need of investigation.

“That’s like uh-“ Lowering his mug. “That’s a hero thing, right? I guess I’ve always been able to do it but only in serious situations.” Grin warming as his head tilted slightly. “So not exactly a party trick or anything.”

“That’s a Will thing.” You corrected softly, unable to hide your smile. He was endearing, this strange man. He made some soft noise of recognition with a nod of his head. “Mostly heroes do it, yeah, but... well you’re not one, obviously so- oh. Well. I guess you are.” He was heroic, that was for sure. Stupid. But heroic. Training in the guild was one thing. But being a hero had no exclusivity.

He waved his hand at you. “Oh stop.” A little light on his cheeks, this time instead of silver, he was turning pink. “I did what anyone would have done.”

You couldn’t help a shake of your head. “I don’t think so.” Not everyone had greatness in them. “Not everyone is brave.” It took all kinds to make a world.

He turned just a little darker at the continued praise, smile turning absolutely mushy. “I dunno about all that but. Thanks anyway. Just trying to do the right thing.”

“You succeeded.” Finding yourself just slightly entranced with his presence. His genuineness. If nothing else you’d remember him for the rest of your life. Weird ears or not.

“With your help.” He reminded you, raising his glass to get you to toast with him. For what, who knew, he didn’t say anything else. Not until after you’d both had another sip. Then he looked at you from across the table. “My name’s Danny.” Offered with his hand so that you could give him a firm shake.

As you did you noted just how long his fingers were. Just how soft his skin felt. “___.” Giving him your name in return. Your hand stayed linked with his for probably longer than was appropriate. Something that turned the tables of blushing in your favor as you drew it back to your lap and looked away from him. “Thanks for the beer.” Just to have something to say.

“Hey, it was your money.” Reminding you with another little giggle. “So thank _you_ , ma’am.” Taking a noisy sip.

“Any time.” It came out of you so naturally that you didn’t have time to think about it. You surely didn’t mind his presence. He was a nice fellow, if not a bit... well, stupid wasn’t the word. You maybe just overzealous. In all the right ways, though. That was for sure.

But you watched as he tipped his head forward a little with an arch of his brow. “Yeah?” Confident for two seconds before he shrunk back in his chair with another bout of tiny laughter. “I mean- just... sure, I wouldn’t mind having a drink with you again.” Covering up what he must have thought was a mistake. Probably not wanting to come on too strong.

...did that mean he liked you?  
Did you like him?

“Let’s finish this one first. See how it goes.” Teasing back as best you could. Laughing with him in the meanwhile. He seemed to agree and you toasted again, more just to have something to do than anything else. “So what kind of music do you play?”

Eager in the couple of hours you’d have him to learn what he’d let you. When he started asking you about your time in the Guild, you knew he felt the same way.


End file.
